


facelessly.

by jeonginks



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Mystery, This is for Halloween, i guess? it's not really that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:01:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27254602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeonginks/pseuds/jeonginks
Summary: meeting new people at a party was never your forte. that was until you saw a boy with a kitsune mask and a red scarf, standing by the backyard fence and tied to rather peculiar hearsay.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Reader
Comments: 18
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is for the halloween collab on tumblr. the prologue of the story will be linked there, but you don't have to read it to read this.
> 
> tw: mentions of suicide, anxiety attack, mentions of killing

_It has got to be one of them._

The thought flickered across your mind as your sharp eyes trailed after all seven of your friends, wondering which one of them you planned to spend wasting the next hour of your life with in this party you did not want to be in.

It has got to be somebody you knew as you made no plans to meet new faces. You didn’t even plan to attend this party for longer than half an hour—oh yes, you were still very bitter that BamBam managed to dramatize that lame skeleton makeup excuse, to a point you actually felt bad and chose to stay.

Your eyes scanned the dark, neon-lit room in hopes to find your friends again. A distasteful frown appeared on your face; your below-average eyesight could barely see anything with all the ugly decorations and such a crowded living room.

Jeongin and Seungmin were standing by the candy table, one shoving marshmallows in his cheeks while the other grimaced with a cup of red strawberry fruit punch in his hand. You hummed. Jeongin would likely accidentally spit those sugar spit on you as he tried to talk with his cheeks full, and you were not in the mood for Seungmin’s snarky remarks. Next.

Felix was seated in front of the big-screen television, his hands smashing against the controller as he ran away from the ghost that just jump-scared him. You sneered under your breath. How he managed to preserve his perfect eyesight while being in front of the screen under the dark almost all twenty years of his life was beyond you, and it made you bitter. For that reason alone, you refused to talk to him. Next.

Minho was leaning against the wall at the far back corner. You could barely make out his face. If not for his dramatic costume, you would not have recognized him at all. Squinting your eyes and leaning forward, you watched carefully what he was doing. He seemed to be chatting with a girl, as you expected. Oh, he was leaning in, they were both leaning in—oh, they’re making out, Ew, moving on.

Hyunjin… where did that lanky boy go? He was always there when you needed someone to talk to! Looking around the living room, your eyes widened at the pair of angel wings flapping prettily across the room. There he was, dressed as an angel, and Changbin dressed as a devil. They paired up, how interesting! They have been spending a lot of time together lately!

Changbin and Hyunjin were awkwardly chatting in the middle of the room, forcing everybody else to maneuver around them. How irritating, you’ve always hated people who block communal spaces. They would probably be called out if not for the on-going party, and the fact that nobody ever says no to Hyunjin and Changbin got much more intimidating in a devil costume.

However, causing inconveniences to others is never the way to live! Seemed like the pretty man and the biceps boy would need a lecture or two from the studious skeleton, aka you.

Taking a step forward, you tried to make your way across the living room to where the biblical duo was standing, but you made an abrupt stop when you saw Chan out of your peripheral vision. He was walking towards another direction, possibly to the backyard doors, and his long vampire cape dragged on the floor.

A small smile lit up on your face as you spun on your heels. Your target has changed; the angel and the devil could wait a while, you’ve got the spooks for the vampire first! With such a loud space and barely visible lights, Chan could never see you coming up behind him. You might finally be able to get revenge on him scaring the soul out of you in the school cafeteria that one time.

Creeping up behind him, you calculated your steps to make sure he wouldn’t be able to feel your presence being too close for comfort. You avoided his cape carefully, sidestepping while still following him closely. Then, when you finally found a more open space, you took the quick chance to slam both your hands on his shoulders and you screamed.

Chan froze up, his eyes widening at the piercing scream behind him. Immediately turning around, his hands instinctively flew up to grab hold of your collar, the other hand at your forearm. Your heart pounded at the weird position he placed his hand in; he didn’t seem to register your unthreatening face under this dim lighting.

“Woah–hey! Hey–Bang Cha–ahh!”

You screamed in terror, your arms flailing about when you felt your body being pulled up after Chan had yanked you forward to him as he turned his back on you, hoisting you up with his arms and further supporting you with his broad shoulder in the process. Then, with a very harsh pull, you flipped you over his shoulder and landed you roughly on the floor.

Great. A vampire just took you down in front of everyone. That was how you have always wanted your life to go, that was how you wanted to be remembered by.

“Oh god, (Name)! I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that!” Chan immediately said after you landed on the ground with a thud, your back arching in pain. He grimaced at your scoff, little murmurs of pain leaving your lips and making him regret his instinctive action even more. “I didn’t know it was you.”

He crouched down next to you, one hand going under the small of your back and the other holding your wrist gently. Looking up, he clenched his jaw in embarrassment when he found passerby staring and laughing to themselves. Thankfully, most of them returned to their own business after a hot three seconds of intrigue. That could certainly cease the attention off both of you.

“I’m so sorry, does it hurt really bad?” He asked while helping you up and steadying you, his brows furrowed and his eyes looking everywhere on your body to check for unseeable spots.

“Considering how that move is probably invented to hurt an opponent, I’d say it hurt a lot,” you grumbled to yourself. Your hand flew up to your shoulder and you rotating it to ease up the tension and pain. Frowning at his guilted expression, you sighed in defeat.

You could never stand the remorseful look on Chan’s face. There was just something about the way his downturn eyes glimmer that makes you feel so bad about ever being annoyed at him. Also from the fact that Chan could almost do no wrong, at least never intentionally. It was impossible to be mad at him.

“Remind me to never scare you again in the future,” you joked it off, dusting yourself. “Also, remind me to put you on speed dial in case a serial killer barges into my apartment one day.”

“I’m not serial-killer proof, (Name),” he laughed, finally easing up.

“You’re not, but your combat skills are, muscle man,” you said, throwing a tiny punch to his chest and grimacing at how firm it felt on your knuckles.

This fit bastard; one day you would find a way to get his shirt off the ground just to take a look at how he was built inside.

Chastely, of course.

“It’s actually not that hard,” Chan said with a shy chuckle. “You just grab the collar, hold onto the arm, support the person’s weight with your back, and then pull them over your shoulder. Collar, arm, weight over shoulder, flip!”

You stared at him for a second, your eyes bland as the white morning sky. There was a smile on your face, one that showed utter disbelief but also a hint of suppression. For sure, Chan didn’t actually think anyone would be able to do that on verbal instructions alone, did he?

How naive, he has so much faith in people’s ability, it was almost adorable.

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s not hard at all,” you whispered to yourself and looked away.

You were trying to see if Hyunjin and Changbin were still standing on the spot where you last saw them, but they seemed to have vanished from the other side of the living room already. Alright, plan A of talking to the holy pair just went down the drain. You should enact plan B, engage with the vampire to collect party points until you’ve got enough to convince BamBam you could leave.

“So, where were you going, Chan?” You asked after abruptly turning back to look at him.

Caught off-guard as he was busy waving to one of his many friends, as he should, being the exceptional social butterfly of this mediocre town. He widened his eyes and turned to you, his smile wide in curiosity as he asked, “Hmm? What did you say?”

You rolled your eyes. “I asked you where you were heading to before you slammed me on the floor, Chan?”

“Oh, haha, sorry about that again,” he laughed awkwardly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. Then he relaxed, his hands falling back to his side. “I was heading to the backyard. Everyone was talking about this new boy in town, or at least who felt like a new person. They wanted me to go check it out and see if he’s new or if he just laid low for the past years.”

You furrowed your brows. That was both interesting and mildly alarming. Interesting in a way where while his identity was still ambiguous, why did it matter if it was? It was a Halloween party where everyone was dressed up as somebody else and everyone’s mind went at least a little haywire. The atmosphere was dim and messy; it wouldn’t be a surprise to not recognize an extremely familiar face.

Even if it was a familiar face, who cares? It was probably only for tonight, anyway! Just go make a new friend and forget about him tomorrow morning!

“That’s a weird way to phrase it,” you muttered to Chan as you followed suit behind him, walking towards the backyard entrance as well. “Laying low for the past years–what is he, a spy?”

“Could be,” Chan laughed, shrugging, “I have always thought this town is a little too plain to not have some secretive plot happening under our noses.”

“This town is not that kind of small-town,” you said, “it doesn’t even look photographic enough!”

“Hey! I think our town looks really pretty when Spring comes around,” he defended half-heartedly, his eyes trailing before him after he came to a stop before the glass doors. His voice was low and almost undetectable, giving you a sign that he was officially out of it now. “You know… with the flowers and all.”

You have decided not to reply to his input. He wasn’t going to pay any attention to you now that he was searching for the unfamiliar boy, anyway. Looking ahead of you, your eyes scraped past the backyard of BamBam house with a sneer—it was always bitter to remember the scale of his mansion-like house.

People were jumping into pools, their makeups wiped off and their hair wet from all the screams and splashes. A few were hovered over the grass field, sitting on towels and drinking alcohols from cute Halloween paper cups. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary in this picture; it was a party, and people were doing normal party activities.

Scanning your eyes further to the side, away from the stumbling group of friends who were loudly singing to a nursery rhythm, there leaned a figure against the concrete wall. Brown locks peeked out from the shape of the kitsune mask that perfectly hid the face beneath. Under the mask was a long red scarf wrapped gruesomely tightly around the neck. Everything under that was just a simple high school uniform.

You glared at the figure. The school uniform was from your high school.

But that couldn’t tell you anything.

You moved here at the end of junior year, which gave you less time to understand the intricate social network built around your high school, meaning a lesser time to know about every kid in this town and even lesser friends.

There was only one high school and one university located near here, meaning you wouldn’t be able to befriend any extra people from outside who was equally as confused as you, given that they decided to come to your town for anything.

But you thought you didn’t need to meet friends from outside of town. Your life as a new student was possibly the luckiest out of everyone’s because as soon as you befriended Hyunjin as your deskmate, you’ve already got yourself six more friends at the lunch table. Your high school life was surrounded by only the seven of them and nobody else.

You barely knew anybody in school, there was no way for you to even guess if the kitsune-masked boy was somebody from school. Especially not when everything about him looked so average; average height, average built, no face, covered neck, and boring brown hair. He looked like your typical student, he could have been anyone you brushed past in school.

“Are you feeling a little weird about him too?” Chan suddenly asked, his face shifted so close to yours that you jumped away with a yelp. He furrowed his brows at you before looking outside, his eyes focused on the kitsune mask. “I have never seen him before.”

You hummed incredulously, unable to piece his logic together. “How do you know that? You can’t even see his face.”

Chan pursed his lips in thoughts. You were right, he couldn’t see the boy’s face. Nobody has seen his face at this party, either. At least that was what he heard from the whispers around the corner. People have tried to ask him to take the mask off, but he had politely refused. People also tried to force it off of him, but it seemed the boy knew a thing or two about self-defense.

It was impossible to see his face.

“It’s in the aura, it’s weird,” he muttered under his breath. “I feel like I know him, but I also know I don’t know him. I haven’t seen anyone like that around town.”

“I am going to recite my point, Chan. You haven’t seen his face,” you pointed out. “How do you know you have never seen him around town before. Maybe you just couldn’t recognize him?”

“No…” he breathed out softly, his eyes losing focus the more he glanced at the unknown boy.

How peculiar; his eyes refused to keep a clear sight whenever he was looking at him, like the boy wasn’t standing here to be admired or whispered about.

“I always recognize somebody, and I’m sure I have interacted with just about everyone enough to remember them all," he said.

“I’m sure you have,” you said quietly, raising your brows in mock acknowledgment.

Amidst your conversation, coming straight towards you and Chan from behind was a tall presence you could feel. You looked behind your shoulder quickly, not willing to be scared simply because you were too careless to check behind you, then you breathed out a smile when you saw Hyunjin waddling towards you with his angel wings flapping behind him.

“Sorry, I left my bible at home,” you joked firstly, waving your hand at him in a beckoning motion.

Hyunjin placed a smile on his face, his arm going around your shoulder to give you a brief back-hug. He pressed his cheek against the back of your head, almost nuzzling against it. "Hello, my baby."

Chan glanced over at you two, a curious smile developing on his face. You two didn't use to be so close but you two have only grown closer to each other as years passed by, so much that he couldn't recall how awkward you two used to be as new friends.

He wasn't exactly sure when or how, he just knew that one day, all six of them stopped being startled at the way Hyunjin would refer to you with casual endearments and hold you in such intimate ways he would never dare to hold you.

Everyone kept urging you two—or at least, teased you two—to start dating each other. Your friendship felt meant to be from an outsider's point of view, so much that it should be developed into something more. But you and Hyunjin have never thought to be more than just friends.

You two were happy this way; this ambiguous chemistry floating between you both was enough to keep pulling you both to each other and keep the relationship refreshing.

"Hyunjin, have you seen that guy before?" Chan asked after a moment, pointing out the backyard and turning to look at Hyunjin.

Walking forward with you trapped in his arms, Hyunjin leaned forward to see, having to squint his eyes to see better before the white kitsune mask came into his view. An automatic scoff left his lips and he clicked his tongue in pure annoyance, standing back up to further show his disinterest.

"Of course. He is basically the talk of the party tonight." He rolled his eyes, pouting slightly as he recalled his encounter with the masked boy. "It makes no sense to me. None of us know him, his costume is weird, and he has a damn attitude problem."

You widened your eyes, turning to look outside. Hyunjin was right, partially.

You supposed it would make sense for him to appear upsetting to others if all he did was fight people for trying to force his mask off. But it wasn't his fault that people weren't respecting his space.

But the costume, though. That was peculiar. The mask, you could understand. But why wear a high school uniform, and what was up with the long red scarf? Could it just be a low-budget cosplay of a lesser-known character? Or was it a deliberate, stylistic choice you couldn't understand?

"I tried talking to him a while ago and he just completely ignored me," Hyunjin complained in utter disbelief. "He keeps ignoring everyone. I don't think he's said a single word ever since we found him out at the party!"

"That's... weird," Chan muttered out a confused laugh. "Why is he at a party if he isn't going to talk to anyone?"

"Maybe someone forced him to be here," you muttered, pulling a face as you leaned your weight back against Hyunjin. "I didn't want to be here on a midterm week either."

"Oh, you have a midterm?" Chan asked casually.

You nodded. "Yeah, on Monday."

Hyunjin looked down at you, already knowing BamBam probably forced you to attend this party for some odd reasons of his. He huffed out some frustrated air; he would have never made you attend a party if you've got a midterm.

"Huh, seems like you two got that in common," Chan mentioned, staring at you before he jabbed his thumb out the backyard. "Maybe you should try talking to him, see if he'll talk to someone like-minded."

You glared at him then, unamused that he even suggested that you talk to a completely new person when he knew that you didn't want to meet anybody at this party. You didn't even want to be here at all, why would you go out of your way to talk to somebody new?

"You just want me to get his name," you said, furrowing your brows at Chan suspiciously. "You couldn't get it through your head that there is someone you haven't left an influence on in this town, but you also don't want to be rejected when you do talk to masked boy over there..."

Chan took a step back, looking at you knowingly with a smile. You could only tilt your head in annoyance; you exposed him for wanting to make you the guinea pig and he simply accepted your accusations with an honest face, even a hint of hilarity too if you want to stretch it out.

How infuriating, but for his honesty alone, you'd do it. Besides, you were curious yourself. Chan was popular for knowing almost everyone. How rare an event to talk to somebody he hasn't spoken to before? A miracle, you'd say.

"Okay, fine," you said, bringing your hands to Hyunjin's wrists and pulling his arms away from your waist. You stepped out of his embrace just as Chan slid open the backyard door for you. You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "Wait for my report here, captain! If I don't find you, I'm leaving with the secrets."

"If you can get the secrets out of him, that is," Hyunjin said, sparing a glare towards the boy before he smiled at you. "Be careful, baby. He might be weird."

"Aww, I will," you said. "Besides, if he isn't weird with you, I doubt he'd be weird with me."

Chan snickered from the side, his hand pushing the door close after you left the indoors. Hyunjin rolled his eyes, not letting Chan's laughter get to him.

God, he could always leave it to you to give him a genuine, somewhat unconventional compliment.

* * *

You were starting to regret letting Chan talk you into being his lab rat—well, technically speaking, he never tried to convince you to talk to kitsune boy for him, you had simply stepped up on your own.

For what reason... you weren't too sure yourself. You have never developed the desire to meet new friends, especially not after you met the boys and got involved in their tight-knitted circle. Saying you were doing this for the sake of your social network would be the least compelling argument.

You were curious. Yes, you could settle with that. His Halloween costume was compellingly odd. Nothing matches up with his costume. The traditional mask, the knitted scarf, and the modern school uniform—what the hell was he trying to be?

You could start the conversation with that. Not only was it catered towards him, but it also wasn't at all an invalid question. He wasn't trying to be someone obvious, so he should be expecting some questions about his costume!

Side-stepping the drunken people laying around on the ground, you finally approached the masked boy standing by the brick wall. You stopped just a few steps away from him, your social anxiety finally creeping up your skin when the time to strike up a conversation approached.

_Just go slow._ You told yourself. Just start a conversation, normally and casually. If you get ignored, that's fine! If he could ignore Hyunjin, and all of the people who have tried to talk to him at all in this party, the chances of you being rejected as well was almost as high as the Tokyo Skytree.

Holding your hands in front of you, your nails digging nervously into the heel of your palm, you turned back to look briefly at the glass door to find Hyunjin guarding at the corner. He dipped his head forward at you when he caught your eyes, and he smiled with a soft shrug to tell you that he'd be around if you needed an out.

You returned his consideration with a smile, then you turned back. You breathed out heavily and took very small, tentative, almost embarrassingly funny steps toward the masked boy.

He didn't seem to notice you, or at least he wasn't trying to act like he did. Even when you thought you had gotten close enough, he still stood facing forward, rigid and unmoving like a statue. You would have thought he was dead standing up if it wasn't for his heaving chest.

You faked a cough to get his attention. You didn't succeed.

Waiting for a while—a terrible decision, really, because you just stood next to him while you fidgeted with your entire uncoordinated body in a skeleton suit. You could imagine how obscene that appeared. The masked boy probably thought you were weird for only approaching him to do that too.

Anyway, moving on, you have finally mustered up to courage to speak again. You leaned your body forward this time, trying to catch his 'eyes' as you greeted in a soft voice, "Um... uh... hi!"

He didn't reply again. That bastard. At least have the decency to turn and bow! Flat-out ignoring you was a bit too much, wasn't it?

Sweat began to form on your forehead. You couldn't quite feel it yet, but your neck was getting too hot and your palms too tight around each other for you not to be sweating from awkwardness. The anxiety was crawling at the back of your head, piercing your skin with every beat of your heart.

Maybe this was a bad idea. What if he was thinking about how to roundhouse kick you like he did to everyone else? Oh, you could not take that pain of being kicked in the ribs nor the humiliation of being stared at because your sorry ass couldn't stand up after being kicked!

"Okay, I'm done playing with you!"

You flinched at the loud and cheerful voice. It zapped through your ears abruptly, the unexpected answer coming a few seconds too late to bring the little hope out of your ultimate despair.

"I–uh, um... huh?" You frowned in confusion, looking at the fox mask and shaking your head at him.

He laughed, his whole body moving with each chuckle of his voice. It took you a moment to notice how his voice didn't sound muffled from his mask at all, which was understandable since you were still recovering from the shock of getting a response.

His voice was oddly clear, almost distinctive in a way, with confidence and humor packed into its low octave. He sounded charming, he sounded like there would be a handsome face behind the mask, and you pursed your lips in faint excitement.

He has somehow chosen to talk to you out of everyone else. Whatever that meant.

"I'm sorry, I was just messing with you a while ago," he said, waving his hand dismissively.

"A peculiar prank to ignore someone who is trying to start a conversation," you said, tilting your head hopelessly. "I think people here call that being rude."

A soft scoff left his lips and he scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, I saw you get this terrified look on your face and I realized my joke might have gone too far, so I stopped," he said, his voice slowly coming to a timid halt. You imagined there was a smile behind that mask; you could hear the apologetic tug in his voice.

"Sorry about that, I hope my first impression could still be fifty percent positive," he muttered, putting his hands out to make two number fives.

"That's ten percent," you pointed out.

He looked down at his hands, and you watched him contemplate for a second before he curled on of his hand into a fist, representing the number zero. He looked up at you, and you gave him a deadpan expression.

"That's zero-five, not fifty," you said.

He immediately switched the gestures, an awkward laugh leaving his lips. It definitely seemed like he has annoyed you with his dumb prank, even though there was gentle mischief behind your teasing. He could still feel the wraith of its grip, tickling his sides and making him speechless.

"Fif–fifty... percent...?" He asked one last time, holding out the fifty toward you.

You breathed out a short giggle at his stutter, feeling a boost to your confidence that you have successfully returned his medicine to his mouth and made him nervous. Upon such heightening of charisma, you moved your hands over to his and arranged his fingers; putting down three on the five, raising five on the zero.

"Well, aside from the fact that you triggered my social anxiety and made me think about one of my worst nightmares, I'd say your first impression is about a seventy-five percent."

"I couldn't ask for more," he said after, laughing while he shifted his weight and let his arms drop to his side. "It was a higher grade than my sophomore year Biology."

You looked at him with your brows furrowed slightly. "Sophomore year... like... in this university?"

"Oh, no. Sophomore year in high school," he shook his hands, "I'm pretty sure we are the same age. Freshman in university, right?"

"Yes..." you replied lowly, looking at him suspiciously. He definitely wasn't from around here, then, if he was a college freshman. Chan would have recognized him if he was. "You.. you're not from around here, are you?"

"Everyone is so obsessed with that tonight," he complained, rolling his eyes and throwing his arms up in exasperation etched in his voice. "Can't I just be a passerby? Have you guys never gotten those in this town?"

You sucked in a breath at his question. At least it was established that he wasn't from this town, that would ease Chan's socially perfectionist mind and everybody else's hunger for any kind of information about the kitsune boy.

But hmm, a simple passerby? Like people who were simply stopping by before heading off to their final destination? You have never personally met one before, but you wouldn't eliminate the idea that your town could get those. You have only been here for two years, almost three now, but your experiences here shouldn't be the blueprint for his town-related questions.

"I think we definitely do?" You said, uncertain. as your eyes wandered to the side. "I don't think those people wander into the town a lot, though? They might stay around the main roads outside more than they do in here."

"Huh, I see," he tilted his head, "I guess I am the first one to do that, then. I just heard about a party and I decided to give it a visit."

You puckered your lips. That would make sense. His weirdly planned costume would make more sense if he hadn't expected to be going to a party. If anything, it would be out of courtesy that he even dressed up at all.

Albeit, your mind was still dwelling on why anyone would have a kitsune mask, a red scarf, and their high school uniform laying around. The scarf would make a little sense if it was colder, but it wasn't that cold yet, and you were pretty sure the stable temperature your town has now was unified everywhere within this district.

Oh, jeez, he better not have asked a high school kid to borrow their uniform just to blend into the costume theme. That could be... ugh... alarming and uncomfortable.

Ah! Just let it go, (Name), at least for now. It would be better if you don't overthink it.

"That's good, then, I hope you are enjoying it so far..." you mumbled, smiling up at him. "My best friend throws killer parties."

The boy froze on his spot, his head lowered to stare at the ground before he tentatively raised it again. He sounded passive when he spoke, both worried and annoyed, as if he was nagging at you.

"Your best friend owns this house?" He asked.

"Well, his parents do, technically," you replied. "I think so, yeah. BamBam couldn't work enough to afford this house if his life depended on it."

"BamBam...?"

"My best friend, also the person who forced me to be here, also the owner of this big-ass house he does not deserve to be left alone in," you grumbled, glaring at the air as you recalled how many times you have had to yell at him to clean the house up.

There is no point in him having such a nice house if he can't even take good care of it. You were sure you would have to stay behind and clean up after the party with him. _Sigh_... perhaps you should ask some of your friends to help out before they leave for the night too.

"Oh, I see," he laughed suddenly, sounding much more relaxed this time. Even his shoulders slumped a little upon the clarification, which you found weird but you decided to not ask much of it.

"Anyway, to answer your question," he said, then he cleared his throat to hum loudly in thoughts Crossing his arms and tapping the chin of his mask, he replied, "This party is pretty good. But there wasn't much to do here, I am just standing here."

Well, sir, you had all the time to roam around and to talk to people. Simply choosing not to engage in social interaction and blaming the event for being boring wasn't very fair, was it?

"I see..." you nodded, not looking up at his mask as you continued to speak, "well, I was actually here to ask you several more things, but I think I have gathered what I needed to know already, so I guess I will leave you to... standing alone...?"

"Woah, hey!" He said, shaking his hands in protest when you tried to turn around.

He had almost shot his hands out to grab yours but he was smart to second-guess that action and ultimately not executing it. He hadn't even known you for long; no matter your importance to his existence now, he supposed touching you unwarranted would result badly.

"Hmm?" You blinked at him, making him gulp.

"Don't look at me all confused like that, you know what you did!" He said exaggeratedly. "You can't just tell me you have questions for me and then leave me hanging like this!"

You widened your eyes in surprise when he took a step forward. Oh, how ridiculous! You couldn't even see his face, you were basing his attractiveness solely on the ups and downs of his voice and his habitual gestures, how could you find him attractive already?

God, this is why you can never be trusted to make a relationship decision. You could find any people attractive if you could. This is exactly what Hyunjin discreetly meant when he told you to always tell him about the progress of your romantic life, be it a crush or a flirt or a potential significant other.

(Or, he was just finding a way to keep tabs on the possible advancement of your romantic relationship in order to see when he should step in and completely sabotage it since apparently, he wasn't all that approving of just being friends. But your self-esteem issues would never let you think of him that way, so you continue to drown yourself in oblivion.)

"Ask away, I don't bite," he said, a smirk behind the mask. "I promise."

You sucked in a breath, finding it seducing that he lowered his voice to make a promise. It was almost like he was flirting with you, which undeniably has kick-started your fight-or-flight reaction.

The first thing you did was step back, keeping an arm's length between you two. Then you laughed, awkwardly, like you were trying to fill in the silence at the Thanksgiving dinner table after one relative accused another of something absolutely, ridiculously horrible yet hilarious.

You know. The "haha–hmm–haha–hmm" laugh, where the first half was opened-mouthed and the second half through clenched teeth and many side glances.

After that embarrassing thing you did, you cleared your throat and proceeded to not look at him. Not that he has eyes to look into anyway—oh, hold on a damn moment!

You snapped your head up, your eyes narrowed in concentration as you scanned this mask. The bewilderment grew when you realized you could not find a single hole on it, not through the eyes, not through the nose, and certainly not through the lips.

"What the fu–are you breathing right now?" You asked, unconsciously stepping forward.

He hummed, mildly intrigued. "I didn't expect that to be the first of your many questions, at least ask me for my name first."

"Can you even see me right now–can you see anything in here?" You asked, waving your hand excitedly in front of his face, checking his invisible vision.

He shook his head, trying to get you to step back but it was to no avail. Finally, he had to settle with snatching your hand to a stop, his rough fingers circling your wrist and pulling it away from his face.

That alone already proved to you that he could, in fact, see the outside world. But something in the way the paint on the mask gleamed made you devastatingly alarmed.

The fake yellow eyes were glaring back at you somehow. They were waiting, they were questioning you, they were agitated and nervous about it. But you have no answers for them, you didn't even know what they were asking about—they were just painted eyes.

"That was very abrupt–" he clamped his mouth shut at the mistake he almost made, then he let go of your hand with an apology. "Sorry about that. But I can see, as you may have already figured out."

You pursed your lips together, bringing your hands together before your tummy before you dipped your head in a polite apology as well. "Sorry, I just got too curious. Your mask is sealed shut."

"It is," he laughed. "I don't mind explaining how I can see to you, if you want to hear it."

You perked up then, his gentle voice much less intimidating than before. His yellow painted eyes have stopped glaring at you as well, peculiarly. With a nod, you giggled, "Sure, I'd want to know what kind of witchcraft that is you put on your mask."

"Hmm, it's not magic," he tilted his head and said. "Just human nature. I'll explain it to you, but maybe not in here."

"Oh? Finally getting tired of standing around and defending your mask by putting down other people?" You asked, raising a brow funnily at him.

"That, yes, but also because it's so loud in here," he replied, leaning forward to you and holding out his hand. "Anyway, my name is Jisung. I came here from pretty far away and I'm probably not gonna stay here long."

You ran your tongue across your lower lip. Jisung—what a normal name. You’ve met about five Jisung in your grade already. Also, that was supposed to be some kind of warning, was it? The cliché ones where he tells you not to fall in love with him because he will either leave the country the next day or die from cancer the next month?

How hilarious. If anything he'd be telling you that just do he would not have to deal with you loving him later. Somebody like him was probably sick and tired of being chased by others anyway.

Or maybe you were just overthinking.

Either way, do not fall in love. That was your main goal tonight.

"My name is (Name)," you said, smiling up at him. "Nice to meet you."

That would not be a problem.

* * *

As per Jisung's request, you decided to bring him somewhere quieter so you two could chat out the details of your temporary friendship. You've got questions to ask him, ones you would make up along the way; he would likely divert the attention to you so he wouldn't be the only person revealing all the deepest, darkest secrets as well.

After walking back into the house, you had looked around in search of Chan and Hyunjin, especially Chan since he was the one who pushed you to talk to Jisung in the first place. But both of them have vanished from plain sight, at least they were nowhere in the living room, where the main party took place.

Deciding that it wasn't urgent to explain to Chan that Jisung was just someone passing by this town, you had led Jisung through the crowd of people, slipped between small gaps, and bumped into different people until you two finally got released from the suffocating pile of high and rowdy students.

You visibly breathed out a large exhale when you plopped out of the corner of the crowd, and you turned around to find Jisung standing right behind you.

He appeared relaxed, his body straight and his mask remaining in the same place, not a trace of agitation from the tough trial he just went through.

Letting the disbelief slip between the corner of your furrowed brows, you finished catching up with your breathing before you straightened yourself.

Holding up your hand, you gestured to him with a beckoning motion, telling him to follow you before turning around and aiming straight for the stairs where the ninety-seven percent of the party ended.

Jisung followed suit, climbing up the stairs as his hand trailed along the wooden rail. He looked behind him, finding the sharp contrast of warm, homey lights and the poppy, party glow hilarious, then the returned to his front where your back was.

"Where are we going?" He asked when you two arrived at the top of the bitterly long stairwell inside this mansion home.

"Somewhere quieter where we can talk," you replied curtly, pointing at him, "as per your request."

Turning away immediately, your head went left and right as your mind cracked open to remember where BamBam's room was. You have been here multiple times before, and you have been to his room more than once, yet somehow you always needed to think it through first before you could be sure of the direction to it.

"Ah, right, here," you said as you snapped your fingers, pointing to your right and walking toward the hall.

Jisung followed you without question, walking lightly on the marble tiles to avoid the clicking sound of his heels. It felt like he wasn't supposed to be here, even though you were the one who brought him along and this was your best friend's house, and the sound of his footsteps would only keep reminding him of that.

"Are you sure I can be here?" He finally asked after a while. He looked up from your head, his head facing the door you just stopped in front of. "This is somebody else's room."

"Well, I have never been in any other rooms under this roof aside from his," you said, reaching for the doorknob already. "So it's either this room or the bathroom."

Jisung didn't reply to you. You looked over to him, your bottom lip slightly jutted out in annoyance. What a hassle, he wanted somewhere quiet but also not in any room. The whole party was loud, alright, you were doing the best you could to provide the best.

"Don't worry about it. If he's gonna scold anyone it's gonna be me," you shrugged, "just don't move anything and don't get on the bed."

With that, you proceeded to turn the doorknob and swing the door open. BamBam's room came into view, the humane smell—unclean laundry and hand lotion—of its corners hitting your nose immediately to remind you why you've always chosen not to hang out in here.

Not that it was terribly, exaggeratingly, life-threateningly bad. You just... you would prefer to be somewhere that smelt less like overworn sweat on a shirt tossed somewhere on the floor, that was all.

"Shoes off," you said, pointing at him. "Carpet floor inside."

"Huh, okay," Jisung nodded, reaching down for his shoes. "It will be a pain if he spills anything."

You kicked your shoes off as well, setting it to the side while Jisung brushed past you into the room. You closed it behind you and smiled sympathetically when you saw that he found a spot on the ground to stand awkwardly in.

He always looked so out of place. It was almost adorable.

"Sit down, no one is judging you here," you urged light-heartedly as you headed over to the bed in the middle and slumped on top of it, your legs dangling over the edge.

"I thought we're not supposed to get on the bed," Jisung mentioned, finally finding a spot near the bed to sit. He looked up at you, his head moving along your skeleton-covered legs while they retreated onto the bed.

You popped your head out the edge of the food to give him a deadpan glare. "You can't get on the bed, you're a stranger," you said. "But I can because me? Best friend. Besides, he owes me one for making me come here when I have a midterm on Monday."

"A midterm? Yikes," Jisung said, grimacing. "I haven't had any of those in a while… three years, I think?”

"Oh? Why?" You blinked at him, curious. "Are you not in school anymore?"

"No, I dropped out," he said.

You breathed out a sigh in acknowledgment. "Did your parents react well with that?"

He laughed then. It sounded way less pained than you expected it would be, and somehow you felt at peace knowing that he might not have regretted his choice of quitting his education. You would be compelled to feel his stress if he did feel remorse over such an important decision; it would haunt you for days.

"Nope, not at all," he replied, his laughter trailing off as he propped his legs up to bring his knees to his chest. His mask stared ahead for him, and it irked you that you couldn't see his eyes. "Nobody reacted well with that."

You pursed your lips together, the corner pulled to the side as you squeezed your cheek muscles. Looking at him, wanting to see his emotions using his expressions but unable to, you decided to bring the words out of you for the sake of curiosity anyway.

"Do you regret leaving?" You asked, putting your chin on your hands.

Jisung inhaled deeply, a low hum leaving his throat as he arched his neck to look at the ceiling. The decision must have impacted him a lot for him to be thinking about it so hard. You could even feel a flicker of remorse on his chest when he breathed, how grim.

"No, I don't regret it," he said quietly. "It wasn't my fault that I left."

You raised your brows, surprised. "You don't sound like you wanted to leave originally."

"I... I wanted to at first. I didn't think anything was for me, but I wasn't–" he clenched his hand together and unclenched it, sounding distressed. "I wasn't brave enough to do it, and then people... people made me leave."

His voice trailed off, leaving only huffs of breaths in the air. You stayed silent for a while. He sounded as if a lack of words from you would be appreciated. Not that you could tell precisely, he still has his face hidden behind that awfully animated fox mask.

But mostly you needed time to think. It was a sensitive subject, Jisung was generous enough to let you ask any questions about it. He didn't come here to think about his past, after all, and you weren't about to be nosy and ask him for more detail of his choice to drop out of school.

However, you were still extremely curious about the situation. Not only about his plans but also about his past that led him up to it. You have experienced similar feelings before, and like him, you weren't courageous enough to stand outside the box. The only difference was that you made it through and, well, it appeared that Jisung didn't.

"Don't feel too terrible about it, school is a scam anyway!" You exclaimed suddenly, cutting through the silence.

He perked up at you, his head tilted to the side and his baffled voice sounding through your ears. "Huh?"

"I probably shouldn't be saying this but school isn't all that great either," you said, picking at your fingers. "Maybe you did the right thing dropping out, maybe it is the right thing for you."

Jisung tapped his fingers against his knees. His mask did the talking for him once again; the drawn on eyes a shade of warm yellow, a bitter yellow.

It felt nostalgic, almost, like you have missed something you didn't know you wanted to have, like the gut-frustrating feeling of realizing how things could have turned out better if the timing was right.

You hummed, leaning closer to him as you pointed at his face. "You haven't explained to me how you are seeing through your mask, or just functioning at all with it."

"My mask?" Jisung questioned, pressing his palm to its side. Then he cleared his throat, ready to satiate your curiosity. "First of all, the mask isn't that tight so there are still breathing room for me, as well as why I can talk."

"It's not tight?" You questioned in disbelief, your hand instinctively reaching out for his mask.

Your fingers barely grazed its porcelain surface—a surprise. it was not made out of plastic—before Jisung immediately reached a hand up to grab your wrist, stopping you from taking it off his face.

You jumped at his sudden aggression, your eyes widen and a yelp leaving under your breath. He let go of your hand quickly, shrinking himself further into a ball as his hands found each other before his legs, his fingers laced together.

"Sorry, that just scared me a little," he muttered, his feet tapping anxiously against the carpet floor. "I don't do well with things flying at my face ever since... ever since I went blind."

Your mouth hung open slightly then, shocked. Out of anything he could have told you, this was the last of your expectations. You almost wanted to say he's got quite the exciting life, tragically eventful, that was.

"It was an accident, but the damage on my eyes was very permanent," he laughed, scratching the eye of his mask. "I kind of learned my way through without seeing. At least, I'm pretty good at detecting presence around me."

"Oh," you nodded in acknowledgment, "well, that's... something."

He laughed, it was short and breathy. "Don't know what to say?"

"Yeah," you said. "I'm sorry."

He looked down at his hands, his fingers releasing each other before he began to pick at his nails. He didn't come off as nervous, however, just in deep thought. When he looked up at you again, he faintly chuckled.

"It's fine," he said. "It wasn't your fault."

You could only smile at him. This was not the direction you thought you would be heading toward when you began to chat with Jisung. You hadn't expected him to reveal this much, or at least you thought the conversation would be way more light-hearted than this.

You weren't falling in love with him or anything, even though doing so when someone so much is to reveal something about themselves seemed to be a mastered skill of yours. You were only getting attached. Jisung would definitely remain as a stranger you would be thinking about for a long time.

You didn't mind that. He was enjoyable to be around, as short as his company has been. And you would love to have better memories of him.

"Okay! Let's change up the atmosphere!" You exclaimed, sitting up and crossing your legs. You have made up your mind to make some fond memories with him, so you would. "So, tell me, where is your destination?"

He looked up at you, not much startled by your sudden enthusiasm. He shrugged. "I'm not sure, actually. I'm just traveling and waiting to see what the future is in store for me."

"Oh, pff," you rolled your eyes with a scoff. "What are you, some lost, torture artist?"

"Um..." he raised his voice in question, "yes? you can say that...? I did make music."

You let out a surprised noise, mischief flooding into your eyes. "Really? Care to plug yourself?"

"I'm not on the internet,” he said. “Never got the courage to 

“You know you have to put yourself out there in order to–” you waved your hand, your brows furrowing, “–have an actual future in the music industry.”

“Yeah, I know that!” Jisung said, promptly irritated that you were trampling on the one thing he didn’t do right for his dream. “I was going to do that, okay! I thought about going busking… or something…”

“Busking… right,” you hummed, rubbing your chin and faking professionalism as you eyed him up and down. “I would tell you the probability of you being discovered, but if know of neither your voice nor your face, so I’m very empty-handed right now.”

“I don’t like the insinuation that if I am good-looking enough, I would get casted.”

“That _is_ part of how the industry works,” you said, a grumble of mockery leaving your voice as you waved your hands at him in a chasing-away motion. Then you fell to your side, your body bouncing on the bed before you settled down and found a comfortable position. “Good for it, though. I love looking at good-looking people all dolled up and dancing around. I can like them just the same, I would never frame that as a bad thing.”

“So you are admitting that you are shallow,” Jisung said.

“Perhaps, but people have pretentious standards,” you mumbled, “which I, unfortunately, feels compelled to follow sometimes.”

Jisung nodded, propping his chin on his hand. “It’s not bad to feel like that, you’re just unconsciously trying to fit in.”

“I suppose.” You shifted your head up to eye him once, then you flashed him a faint smile. You felt the need to do so despite his inability to see it. You kept thinking if he could feel your emotions through your presence, the same way you seemed to be detecting his through the eyes of his mask.

“Anyway,” you said softly then, putting your cheek on the back of your palm as you stared at him. “Sing me a song, undiscovered one."

"That hurts my ego," Jisung complained calmly, waving his index finger at you.

You shrugged, ignoring his scolding voice. "You brought that upon yourself. Maybe you should have gone busking earlier."

"Hey, is this the kind of attitude you should have when you're asking me for a favor?" He huffed out in playful disbelief, his brows possibly raised as half-hearted giggles left his lips. "I should be charging you for this."

"Ah, in the end, it's all about the money, isn't it?" You clicked your tongue, shaking your head in fake disapproval. "You should give me a discount for marketing purposes."

"And why is that?"

"Because I am your first audience, as someone who didn't know you beforehand," you said. "You can't charge your tickets sky-high when you are just starting."

Jisung smirked, feeling a warm defeat in his chest. This felt nice, you felt nice if he could say so himself. It has been a while since he last abandoned his pain and vengeance on the floor to their own decides, allowing himself the time to feel refreshed and let his guard down.

His life has been a wild, painstaking ride. It felt great to meet a new, kind face after it was all over. He could almost feel at peace with his past.

"Okay, let me think..." he tapped the air, his legs shaking side to side before he gasped. "Ah, I know! It's called Close–promise me you won't laugh at me! It's hard to sing without instrumentals."

"Go on," you encouraged, waiting.

Jisung was able to sense your excitement, and his heart beat miraculously for your pure reaction. Where have you been all this time? If he had met somebody like you earlier, such rash things might not have happened to him, and he probably wouldn't be sitting in a stranger's room.

He perked down to prepare himself. It has been a while since he last sang, or eve hummed the song. He could only hope his voice wouldn't give away at this moment, he so desperately wanted to gain validation from someone.

Your eyes significantly softened when he started to sing. His gentle voice was woven into strings of visible melodies in the air, floating about in the air with each word he sang. The romantic lyrics made your cheeks heat up in shyness, your body automatically curling smaller into a ball. Your imagination ran wild, romanticizing his clear voice and the scenario keyed into the song.

But it was over before you knew it. Jisung seemed to have sung only half the song, as he had quickly stopped after the chorus and immediately started to wince at himself. You looked at him, your head perked up, and your eyes wide in amazement.

“No, why did you stop?” You asked, your voice dragged out in dismay. “That was so nice!”

“Oh? Haha, thank you,” he replied softly, scratching the back of his head and looking away. “I wrote it myself.”

You let out a strangled noise from the back of your throat, even more, amazed than you already were. How fascinating that he was so shy about sharing his exquisite talent! It was great that he felt modest, but sometimes it infuriates you lots to see people doubt themselves when they are so blatantly good!

“You can produce too? That’s cool,” you said as you sat up. Turning to him, you spoke, “Oh, wait! I have to introduce you to two of my friends then. They both really like music too. They’ve produced a lot of songs and they already have a solid following online!”

“Woah, woah, hang on (Name).” He held up his hands, making you pause. “I don't even know who your friends are!”

“No worries! You might already know them too! Their name is Chan and Changbin,” you said, getting off the bed to head over to the bookshelf by the wall. You scanned it, looking for a certain book. “Come to think of it, I think BamBam has his high school yearbook here… hmm… ah! Probably stuffed in here.”

Your voice was drowned out by Jisung’s hazy mind. The way his head simply blanked out startled him because he knew he shouldn’t be letting the information get to him. He already knew about it, he knew it before he arrived in this town and joined this party, but hearing it come out of your mouth was staggering to him.

Chan and Changbin. He hasn’t heard those names in years.

“A solid following, huh? You all just moved on without me,” he muttered to himself, a bitter taste lingering on the tip of his tongue as he glared at the floor. “And I’m just here… you can’t even remember me.”

He clenched his fist; he wasn’t upset, maybe just angry. It wasn’t a situation any of them could have helped with, but Jisung wanted to blame them for it anyway. The reason why he left was because of them. They did it to him, it was them, it was all of them. Chan, Changbin, Minho Hyunjin, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin—it was all of them, it was all of them, it was all their fault.

They did this, they did this, they did–

“Oh, haha. I know you can’t see it but I am pointing at a picture of me right now,” you laughed as you plopped yourself down next to him, the yearbook landing on your abdomen and leaning against your thighs.

You pointed at a picture of yourself from a year ago, your smile rigid as you stared at the camera. “God, I wish I was photogenic enough to look nice in these pictures. I always look like I was high on caffeine and I can’t close my eyes.”

The static in Jisung’s head faded away. He regained his clear sight, his anger shivering away slowly at the face of your mocking laughter directed toward yourself. Focus, Han Jisung, you were not here to do anything else but what your lost soul has planned to do for so long.

Everything was over, there was no point in being mad at them anymore, just get the job done.

“Here, this is me.” You grabbed his hand and helped him point at a certain point in the paper. Then you moved over to the other page, stopping at another before naming off your friends.

You repeated the procedure, having to flip through the pages to find where all of your friends were located in the array of students. He glanced down at the yearbook, his eyes trailing after his finger as you moved it. He was unsure why you decided to do this; he couldn’t see, to your knowledge. But Jisung didn’t much mind the feeling of your soft hand closing around his finger, including him in the fun of searching for people.

He was softened, and there was a thought that intruded his mind.

Whatever it was that he had planned to do, he didn’t want you to have to suffer from it.

When you were done introducing all of your friends to him, you casually let his hand go and continued to flip through the pages until you came to an almost frightening stop. Jisung tilted his head, his eyes widening when you breathed out a short gasp. You lingered on the page for a while, your eyes softening and your lips pursed at the familiar name presented on top of the page.

Big and bright as if all is well; gloriously neglecting the tragedy that happened behind the necessity of this special yearbook page.

Slamming the book shut quickly, you threw away the panicked woes in your head and pushed the book off to the side. Turning over to look at Jisung, you saw the side of his skin barely creeping out of the mask, compelling you to touch him. Your eyes shifted upward and your chest froze slightly at the soft black locks.

_Coincidence._ You told yourself. _You knew nothing._

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you spoke again, “Should we go downstairs? I’m sure my friends would love to work with you–“

“Your friends, (Name),” Jisung cut you off grimly. He sounded serious this time, a cautious kind of serious you couldn’t fathom. It made you shiver. “You should be careful around them.”

You slowly looked over at you, confused about his unprovoked warning. “What…?”

“I said your friends, all of them.” The sharpness in his head-turn made you jump. “You should probably be careful around them. They aren’t good people.”

You blinked, waiting a while for your brain to process what he was saying. When it finally reached your senses that he was trying to shit-talk about your friends when he didn’t even know them, the defensiveness began to rush up your neck and you scooted back on the floor to keep a respectful distance.

“Jisung, that is uncalled for,” you told him firmly, your brows furrowing. “Not only do you have no idea what kind of people my friends are, but you are also wrong because they are very great people.”

He paused, then he chuckled. He wasn’t sure of the entire situation, but either way, all seven of your friends were not telling you the truth if you continued to think they are nice people. Unless he has read you wrong and you were actually just like everybody else he has encountered before, then fine, he would consider that a mistake on his part.

“Yeah, great people. That’s very rich coming from a conversation about them,” he said. “Don’t be so naive, (Name). Next thing you know, they would shut you out when you’re not of use anymore.”

You huffed out an annoyed laugh, your hands hoisting you off the floor as you quickly stood up. You had no idea where the accusation was coming from, neither could you ever see your friends do such hostile things toward anybody!

Chan and Felix were, without a doubt, the nicest people you have met in your life; Jeongin and Hyunjin were always so innocent and encouraging; Seungmin could be a little blunt sometimes but he meant well and he was patient; Changbin and Minho were headstrong people, they were smart and fiercely loyal to people they love.

Sure, they could all be irritating from time to time, but that was all for friendly reasons and they would never actively seek out to harm others, and you would tolerate no form of slander toward them.

“You’re wrong, Jisung,” you said. “I don’t know what the hell you think you’re saying, or what you are trying to accomplish by badmouthing my friends like this, but I’m not just going to sit here and take it.”

Jisung sat calmly by the bed, his eyes following you as you stormed out of the room in a hefty manner. Not the most sensible one, were you? You just left a total stranger in your best friend’s room alone. If anything, you really should have chased him away instead of leaving the scene yourself.

But you were probably not within your right mind, he did just talk shit about your best friends— _ugh_. He could cut you some slacks. And he did acknowledge that he might have come off a little too strong for someone you just met, but he genuinely meant the best intention when he told you to be careful around all seven of the boys you deemed as your friends.

He wouldn’t want you to end up experiencing the same fate as him.

The quietness of the room drowned him in. It felt familiar, the silence was just as how his life had usually unfolded. Willing his feelings to stay intact, he allowed his curiosity to flow through his head as his eyes landed on the thick yearbook you had discarded to the side after ‘showing’ him the pictures.

He moved over to it, his body seated uncomfortably before it as he flipped it open. The high-quality pages turned quickly with impatience until he could feel that it has reached the point he had wanted to see the most—the page you had slammed on, the page you didn’t want to explain to him.

He ran his finger along the page. The picture of the boy a familiar face—black locks, dark eyes, round cheeks yet barely a smile. Well, at least the school had the idea to feature this in the yearbook. Not claiming that they care, but they haven’t completely forgotten about what happened, supposed.

It took about a full minute for you to turn away from the party. Jisung could hear your rapid footsteps when you stomped your way along the hallway before stopping abruptly by the bedroom door. You were not here to confront him; if you were, you would have barged into the room already instead of waiting outside and contemplating whether you wanted to head in and see him again.

He smirked to himself, pushing the yearbook aside. This would have been adorable if he hadn’t made you furious beforehand. Standing up from the floor, he stretched his body and rolled his neck before he headed for the door. As if on cue, when you heard the shuffling inside BamBam’s room, you panicked and immediately headed inside just to bump straight into his chest.

Stumbling back, you steadied yourself quickly and clasped your hands together in front of you. The eyes of his mask shone a mischievous gleam, making it impossible for you to stare directly at his face. God, how much worse could you be at social interactions? You couldn’t even look into the eyes of a masked boy!

You couldn’t even see his face, what was there to be shy about? You idiot!

“You came back,” he said.

“Yeah,” you grumbled with a pout.

You realized you might have acted a little rash back then. The sudden change of his attitude should have been a lot more off than just having it slip off as him being an asshole and wanting to ruin your friendships. Perhaps he did warn you out of good intention, maybe his words came from personal experience and he had projected his feelings on you.

You should have probably given him the benefit of the doubt instead of jumping to the conclusion that he was only here to mess with people.

“I’m sorry about that, I should have let you explain more about why you decided to say those things to me,” you mumbled, the words almost incoherent. Then you perked up, looking at him as if he had wronged you terribly. “But still! You shouldn’t have said them to me unprovoked, and you phrased it so weirdly too!”

He heaved a sigh then, admitting his wrongdoings way quicker than you have expected him to. A part of him was glad that you haven’t decided to ask him why he had given you such a warning, and he hoped you don’t plan to ask him so anytime soon. It would be a hell of a story to tell, and he doubted he would have enough time, nor the energy, to explain everything to you.

Part of him was scared, as well, that you might judge him for what he has done. Even though he kept telling himself it wasn’t his fault that he chose to have it easier, he could never shake the terrible thought that maybe he was in the wrong here—too rash, too weak, too trigger-happy.

“I’m sorry I said those things too,” he said, then he lowered his voice, showering his sincerity all over your head. “But, still, I hope you will always remember to be careful of the people around you, no matter who they are.”

You looked up at him, a sad grimace appearing on your lips at his wistful tone. There was a strangle in his voice. It wasn’t audible but you picked it up solely from the context of his words; how he maintained his stance while admitting his mistake of offending you. Surprise engulfed your body when he reached his hand up to your head, patting you as he would a child.

“I want you to live, happily,” he said. “That’s the least I can wish for you.”

Once again, you were bewildered with his choice of actions and the way he phrased his words. How was it that Jisung could feel both like an inherently melancholic yet positive person at the same time? He was smiling and singing one second, only to have that image be destroyed the next second when he spills such enigmatic words from his mouth.

More importantly, why? Would he say those vaguely caring words? It was all out of good intention, you knew, but very few people would choose such a bad timing to express them. He was acting as if he was running out of time, and you supposed he was. He wasn’t going to spend his time in this town forever.

“Thank you,” you said sincerely. “I don’t know what you plan to do when you leave this town, but I hope you get to be what you want to be.”

Jisung smiled to himself, one he made sure you heard by letting out a short, content noise. He retreated his hand back to his side, his voice still gentle when he said, “Thank you.”

Your smile widened at his response. Outside of the occasional melancholic aura he would exude, with his words and, peculiarly, through his mask, Jisung was a good person. It was a shame that you wouldn’t be able to spend more time with him; he felt like someone you could get close to. You were felt so comfortable with him, and you have only met each other for… hmm, you couldn’t remember.

Time sped ahead when you were with him.

“Ah, well,” you clicked your tongue, gesturing toward him, “are you sure you don’t want me to link you to my friends? They can be a good stepping stone.”

“It’s fine!” He burst into soft laughter, shaking his head. When he finally settled down, he faced you directly and hummed with relief, the bitterness no longer hidden steady in his chest as it had been the previous times he talked of them. “I am really glad that they are good to you.”

You scoffed, your eyes narrowing as you found it unnecessary that he mentioned the obvious. “Of course they are good to me, they are my friends.”

The silence Jisung gave you made your stomach churn. Something about it told you you have overstepped a line you weren’t supposed to know not to cross, but you were not so dense to not pick up how his presence changed in its brightness. It made you wonder, with utmost curiosity, why it was that every time you mentioned having good friends, this would happen.

A sour sensation crept up the nape of your neck, causing such discomfort that you had to squirm with your face pulled into a constant frown. Jisung maintained his cheerful persona as much as he could, you would have never begun to assume that he would be the one to lack friends. But time after time, his actions added up to the suspicion, it was getting harder for you not to take things the negative way.

“Hey… I don’t know what your situation is like, but…” you pursed your lips, humming in thoughts, “I don’t–I don’t know? I don’t want to overstep boundaries or anything but if you want… friends, I would be happy to… be one.”

Jisung raised his brows. “Do you think I’m a loner?”

“Ah! No–no! I just… uh…” you shook your hands defensively, your cheeks reddening at the accusation. “Actually, you know what! Let’s just drop the topic and head back to the party! We can do something else if you don’t want to meet my friends.”

“Hmm…” he teased, letting out a somewhat distressed noise as he tiled his head to the side, leaning his body forward to close in on you. You took a step back, surprised, and he chuckled. Standing back up straight, he nodded and held his hand out to you. “It’s fine, I guess that makes both of us even, so let’s call it a truce?”

You looked down at his hand, your nose scrunched in disbelief. Did he think you assuming he might be a loner was something equal to him telling you how your friends would eventually turn their backs on you? How… bold. Thank god, you didn’t feel like holding onto that grudge any further past tonight, so you’d let him go.

Grabbing a hold of his hand, you squeezed it tight and shook it, and the truce was made. When you let go, you looked behind him at BamBam’s room before you turned your attention back to Jisung.

“Do you think you can head back to the party on your own? I am gonna put things back in the room first,” you asked, pointing into your room.

“I can, but I doubt you are going to take too long so how about I wait out here for you. We can walk back to the party together,” Jisung said as he faintly turned around to look behind his shoulder. Looking back at you again, he scratched the back of his head with an embarrassed laugh. “Also, I kind of don’t want to go down there alone. Your long-haired friend was kind of glaring at me when we were talking.”

“Oh, yeah, Hyunjin… he is quite protective,” you giggled awkwardly, having flash-backs to how Hyunjin tends to scare off anybody who tries to get a little too friendly with you. His gatekeeping was funny at first, and truth be told, you still treated it as a joke today, but perhaps it was time for you to talk to him about it.

“Anyway, I’ll be right back, just hold still,” you said before brushing past him and quickly heading into BamBam’s room.

You fixed the bedsheet you have wrinkled up when you were laying on top of it, asking yourself exactly why you felt the need to clean his room up when he can leave the week-old laundry unnoticed. After you finished with the blanket, you moved over to the floor where the yearbook supposedly laid closed.

Your eyes widened as a soft gasp left your mouth. The yearbook was opened, flipped to the page you have been avoiding since you first dragged it out of the bookshelf, and sat next to Jisung to talk about it. Lowering your body to the ground, you touched the page gently, your eyes focused on the poor boy shown on top.

Jisung must have been flipping the page for fun. He just had to stop at this exact page, huh?

Come to think of it, these coincidences were starting to get uncanny and alarming.

Closing the book with that thought in mind, you walked over to the bookshelf and crouched down, trying to slip the yearbook back into the left-out space. Your head was in disarray now that the suspicion was starting to gather in your senses.

Was his story believable? Sure. You couldn’t eliminate the fact that people stop between towns to rest in their journey to a faraway destination. But one that chose to enter a stranger’s home and join a party filled with people they have never met before, and would likely not keep in touch with? It could happen, but it sounds very unlikely.

Not to mention Jisung was completely unprepared for a costume party.

Your interactions were mostly fine. At least you would like to think that way. Aside from the occasional dark outbursts he has in regards to this dark and gloomy life, Jisung was a joy to be around. Not to mention the little prank he played on you! And he had the audacity to tell you he only stopped because he saw that terrified look on your face—

You pulled away from the bookshelf, your gaze hardened suddenly.

He saw?

How did he see?

Could it just be a slip of the tongue? Perhaps he only sensed your presence? But how would he know you had on a terrified expression on your face if he could only sense your presence? Could it be similar to the way you could detect his emotions through his mask?

You clenched your fists together. He possibly could, right? If he could fend off people by literally taking them down, he could probably sense your emotions simply through feeling you next to him. You heaved a heavy sigh and rubbed your face. That sounded too imaginative for you to take it seriously, though!

Maybe Hyunjin gave you the wrong information, maybe Jisung didn’t actually take those people down? Hyunjin always exaggerates, anyway! It couldn’t be! Hyunjin was ju— _wait_.

_“Also, I kind of don’t want to go down there alone. Your long-haired friend was kind of glaring at me when we were talking.”_

Hyunjin was standing back inside the house. He was behind the glass doors. How the hell did he know that Hyunjin was keeping an eye on you?

“Why did he lie about being blind…?” You muttered under your breath, standing up quickly.

You could feel your body heat up. Was he playing a prank on you again? This one went a little too far, though, hasn’t it! Why would he even lie to you in the first place, where is the fun in that? He was definitely hiding something from you, then, but what is it? A ragged breath left your lips, the sight of the yearbook flashed before your mind, and you shook the thought away.

No way. They just have similar hair and the same name. Jisung could not be the boy who suicided three years ago!

_"A midterm? Yikes," Jisung said, grimacing. "I haven't had any of those in a while… three years, I think?”_

You widened your eyes. What was happening, oh, what the hell was happening? You didn’t notice that. How did you not—fuck, how did you not notice that—calm down, calm down, calm down!

Quickly making your way over to the door, you didn't even bother to turn the lights off before you rushed outside to where Jisung was standing with his back faced toward you. Without any word, the first thing you did was clamp your hand down on his shoulder.

You opened your mouth to yell his name, your anger getting the worst of you, but before the words could form in your mouth, he turned around. And a very familiar feeling welcomed you as you felt your body lurch forward toward him. You got hoisted off the floor, your body was supported by his body before he pulled at your arm, flipping you over his shoulder and banging you on the ground.

Your eyes snapped open quicker than they did last time, and you let out a surprised noise when you saw the fox mask right on top of you, only several inches away from your face. Tears started to dwell in your eyes; the yellow in its eyes was terrifying to look into.

“You can take someone down,” you commented, emphasizing your words with grit in your teeth.

“Yeah, I learned that years ago, my friend taught me,” he said. “Collar, arm, weight over the shoulder, and then flip.”

Your bottom lip quivered. That was exactly what Chan told you. Given his rather hostile reaction toward you mentioning Chan and Changbin’s name, adding up the fact that the dead boy used to study in the same high school before the boys became your friends—Jisung might have known your friends already.

Hell, he might even be the boy who died.

Regardless of clues and assumptions, you needed to find out.

“I’m sorry, Jisung,” you whispered to him.

For a second there, confusion flooded his mind. What were you apologizing for? You could see his questions in the tilt of his head, and you immediately took the chance to reach up to his face. Jisung was quick with responding, his hand shooting out for yours only to be baffled by the fact that you moved down to grab onto his red scarf instead.

He let out a noise when you clutched his scarf, watching as your eyes widened before you suddenly gave his scar a yank. It came loose quicker than you expected, and Jisung moved his arms around your body to prevent the fall caused by you tugging harshly at his scarf. In doing so, he has left himself with no extra hands to stop you from reaching up to flip his mask away from his face.

He gasped loudly, his head snapping up when he felt the mask tilt off his face. The light on the hallway ceiling finally came brighter into view, blinding his soft eyes and draping over his skin. You waited with your heart hammering in your ears, thumping on your tongue, perched within your hands; nervous to see what he looked like.

Jisung blinked ahead of him, the sight of the hallway adjusting in his eyes. Then, with a defeated smile, he looked down at you. “Ah, and I thought I was being so careful with it too.”

The tears that gathered beneath your eyes glimmered. Soft black locks, gentle eyes, chubby cheeks—he looked exactly like the boy on the memorial page, the boy who suicided three years ago.

“Han Jisung…” you whispered out, your voice shaking.

He could only smile at you. “I’m so sorry.”

“Get… get away–“ you paused, pursing your lips together when you remembered how that was the last thing you’d want to say to him.

You have heard about him before, but your friends had only mentioned Jisung out of courtesy because you decided to dig a little more into the situation. You never asked about it later fearing that it was a topic too sensitive for them to discuss. The only thing you knew about Jisung was that he was an acquaintance of your friends before he suicided from school-related stress.

And you had felt bad for him despite not knowing much. It was just a breeze of pain that hit your chest, a kind of a disappointment that came from knowing you have missed an opportunity to meet a new friend, to meet somebody good.

You didn’t move from your spot, your hand still clutching his scarf when you asked, “Didn’t you die?”

“I did,” he said. “I died today. This is my first and last time visiting this place.”

“Then… why are you–why are you here?” You asked, “You should go see somebody else, someone more important.”

“I did all that in the morning already,” he replied calmly, moving to sit up straighter yet keeping his face looming over yours. “You are the last person I had intended to meet, (Name).”

Hearing your name from a dead man’s mouth was less haunting than you thought it would be.

“Why…?”

“Because I need your help,” he said softly. “I need you to figure out who it was.”

“Who what was?” You asked, your brows furrowing harshly and your voice harsh against the air.

Jisung gave himself a moment to calm down. He came here prepared, he came here knowing he was going to do this, he should be calm and collected. Breathing in, he held his breath before he replied, “I need you to figure out who killed me.”

You laid on the ground, your eyes rounding in horror and disbelief as your mind processed his words over and over again. It was like the world came crashing down on you; everything you have learned, everything your friends have told you, they were all lies. They said it was suicide, they all said he suicided—what was he going on about? Why would Jisung say that? Did your friends lie to you? Did the school lie?

Why did it have to be you?

“Ye–yeah! Why me? Why do I have to be the one?“ You exclaimed, then you inhaled, your throat trembling and your body visibly shaking. “Why me?”

Right when your voice dropped, Jisung could feel his legs go numb. His time was running out now, and he needed to be quick. Damn it, it wasn’t lying when it told him he couldn’t reveal anything vital about his past. Looking at you in hopes to continue, he licked his lower lip and exhaled a needed breath.

You looked so confused and afraid, he almost didn’t want to keep going, but he has to for his own sake. 

“You were the only person in the party who hasn’t heard my voice before,” he said, and to counter your confused expression, he revealed, “I was bullied when I was alive, terribly. It had something to do with a video of me being broadcasted, but that’s not the main point–“

“I’m sorry,” you blurted out impulsively, staring at him. “I wish I could have helped you.”

You didn’t realize by school stress they meant the people, not the expectations. That just made you even more upset about the situation; you wished you had been there to help. It was only a one year gap.

Jisung looked down at you, softening visibly at your reaction. With hesitation, he reached out for your face, the back of his finger brushing along the side of your face at a slow and tender pace as he savored the softness you provided him, whether it was by giving or receiving. You were the only one who has treated him kindly, reasonably, and he loved you for that.

He could feel his body fade away from the legs, he wasn’t sure if you have noticed, but he had suddenly wanted to take his time to enjoy this quiet moment. Sigh… if only he had more time.

“This is why I warned you about your friends, (Name). Because I really like you,” he muttered under his breath as he tilted his head, watching you blink at him for more clarification. He leaned a little further down to your face, his abdomen vanishing after he moved position. Jisung pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes closed.

“I wish I could have known you better,” he whispered. “Normally, just as friends do.”

You resisted the urge to touch him, partly because you didn’t want to startle this moment. You wanted to let him talk, you genuinely did, but what he said next was impossible for you to leave neglected in your heart.

“And I don’t want you to be friends with people who took part in killing me.”

You gasped. It sounded somewhat like a cough since the sheer impact of his words knocked the air out of your lungs. You turned your head to look at him when he moved up, and your eyes finally got the chance to trail down his body. You yelled when you saw his lack of lower body, sparkles vanishing along his torso as Jisung slowly started to disappear from the real world.

“What–my friends–“ you pursed your lips together, unable to form coherent words as your thoughts were scattered into corners of your head, shattered into pieces of utter horror.

This was why he got all bitter whenever you mentioned your friends, this was why he became so defensive when you spoke of Chan and Changbin. It was all making sense, the way you were desperately wishing it wouldn’t.

“Please stop,” you shook your head, “what are you doing? Why?”

“I’m so sorry, (Name). I won’t be too upset if you don’t find out who it is,” he told you carefully, his eyes not leaving your face even though his shoulder was starting to disappear. “But it was one of them. One of them killed me.”

“No, stop it–please! I don’t want to know, please!”

You huffed, your voice tragically low and broken. How could he say that now? How could he tell you it’s okay when he already exposed so much yet so little to you? Who were you supposed to trust? Were you supposed to side with your friends? But what about Jisung—he died, (Name), he literally died! And your friends did it!

Could it be Chan and Changbin, who he seemed to hate so much? Could it be Seungmin and Minho, the colder two of the bunch? Or sweet, sweet Felix and naive little Hyunjin? Perhaps even Jeongin, was his lovely facade all a lie to cover up his past?

You were starting to look at them in a different light now; the bright, golden spotlight that once shone of your happy group of friends had dramatically shut off and switched to a shade of elegant purple, their eyes replaced with bloodshot red orbs.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t say more,” Jisung said, the vanishing sparks reaching the tip of his chin and going up. “You’re a good person, (Name), I’m so sorry–“

He was gone.

You were faced with the ceiling light again. The silence of the hallway haunted your ears; somehow knowing that you just met someone who was killed made paranoia creep up your skin. You could hear invisible footsteps, the clock ticking, the scratches on the wall, and you could see shadows moving around corners and the ground rumbling beneath you.

Your entire body was anxious.

It all happened too quickly—no, you thought it all happened too quickly because your mind wasn’t sane enough to take in all the information at once. It was all too sudden; Jisung dying, Jisung being killed, your friends being accused. All the lies and the untold truth made your heart all shaken up and the shivers running wild across your body, causing your bones to freeze and your hair to stand.

And Jisung just left you, he just vanished in front of you. You couldn’t even hold onto him or anything, he just left.

Clenching your hands, your eyes widened with tears when you felt the soft fabric beneath your palm. Bringing the red scarf up, you carefully pulled it over your face and spread it out to examine it better. Running your hand across the cotton, your fingers came across the small tag attached to the corner end of the scarf, and you curiously flipped it open to look.

A shot pierced through your heart when you saw a scribble of Han Jisung’s name in faded blue ink. This was his scarf, it didn’t disappear along with him. There was a tearful rush in your eyes, and you exhaled strongly to hold them back in. However, the more you tried to push it down, the harder it was for you to keep it all behind your lips.

You wondered if he died in it, or if he wore it all the time. Was this his favorite clothing? Did it keep him warm when he was alive? Who bought it for him? Was it a gift? Oh, you hoped it was a gift, you hoped someone had loved him enough to give him a scarf, at least.

“Shit,” you cursed at the whimper you accidentally let out, leading to an unstoppable fall of tears down your cheeks.

And you cried. Because you felt so bad. You felt horrible that Jisung had to go through what he did, you felt horrible that the truth was never revealed and he may never find peace if you don’t find out who the real culprit was. And you were angry, angry that your friends left so many things out, angry that they hid the truth from you.

But most importantly, you were upset. The feeling was unfathomably painful; sour and bitter all over your body, all over your veins, infiltrating your chaotic mind. You hated it. You hated that you got attached to Jisung enough to feel so terribly bad for him.

And you just cried. Until your throat became sore, until your eyes began to sting from dryness, until the energy completely left your body—you cried, for yourself, for your friends, for Han Jisung.

It took a while before somebody approached you. He was so loud, you could hear him calling out to the others as his footsteps became closer to your body. Hyunjin rushed over to your side, his hands immediately going under your body to hoist your weak body up, his hand running through your hair in concern as he pulled you to his chest.

“(Name), oh god, what happened?” He asked, looking at you before his brows furrowed. “Did that masked boy did something to you–I swear to god, I will fucking kill him!”

You hadn’t even registered his arrival, or any of your friends’ arrival, all you did was cry until you heard Hyunjin spoke so casually of killing someone. He was simply agitated, you knew. He was always so angry and annoyed over anything that involved you. But your mind was sensitive at the moment and it was picking up on any triggering word it could.

The boys jumped back a little when you lurched forward to get yourself out of Hyunjin’s arms. You let out strangled noises, almost as if you were afraid of them, as you scrambled back against the wall. Your eyes were afraid, confused, and even a little bit cold when you glared at them. Tears have stopped falling out of your eyes, the sadness replaced with caution.

Looking around, your eyes widened in surprise when you saw the kitsune mask being held in Jeongin’s hands, and, out of impulse, you immediately reached forward to snatch it away. You retreated to the wall, curling yourself up into a ball and holding both eh scarf and the mask to your chest.

“What’s going on, (Name)?” Felix asked, concern etched on all parts of his face upon your harsh redaction. He tried to walk closer to you, but you only shot your hand out at him, a yell of caution leaving your lips as Jisung’s words flashed between your brain again.

Felix took a dramatic step back, startled and hurt that you looked as if you hated him. He walked near Changbin, his hand slipping into his friend’s as he furrowed his brows at you. Hyunjin sat close to you, his mouth sealed shut and unknowing of what he should say. The only person who had the sense to move was Chan.

“Hey… calm down, okay?” Chan held out his hands, attempting to soothe you. “Just calm down for me, please?”

You tightened your grip on the red scarf in your hands, your eyes scanning all of their faces. You were seeing flashes now. You saw a group of people you have spent most of your teenage years with, you saw people with blood on their hands; people who have been there for you at your lowest, people with red trickling down their arms and an unforgiving aura.

You saw your friends, then you blinked, and suddenly you could only see killers in front of you.

Looking down at Jisung’s scarf, then at the warm eyes of the kitsune mask. You breathed out a shaky sigh and looked back up at your friends.

_It has got to be one of them._

One of them killed Han Jisung.


	2. explanation.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> after so long, i have decided to sit down and finally write this. here is an explanation, or a part 2, to facelessly, where i explain exactly what happened instead of writing a fic out of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mentions of suicide, mention of death

we left off with mc finding out that jisung is dead, and according to his words, killed by one of the six of their friends, which as we go further down this post will be revealed is actually a conscious lie jisung told mc in a attempt to lay the big reveal (who the killer is) down to mc easier.

to begin, facelessly is placed within the last few time-loop of a long-continuous time loop (oh no, it’s a time loop story), meaning that it is not only nearing the end but also very deep in a long loop that has been going on for a while. the mc in facelessly is the first one to begin putting an end to the time loop.

**note:** the scarf that jisung brings with him, and left with mc, is the time traveling device. the way it works is that you pull at the frizzy end of the knitted scarf and it will create a portal and send you to the back or the future, depending on how many you pulled (the longer strand you pull, the further back or further into the future you jump).

to start, let’s bring the time back to a few years ago during the first timeline—the original timeline, the first event that began the loop in the first place. three years ago was when jisung died, but going even beyond that, a few more years before that, was the start of high school for all of them.

jisung was an outcast, that he did not lie about. but some time during freshman year in high school, mc came into his life and managed to pull jisung into a social circle with them and the rest of the boys. essentially, jisung and mc became friends, and the boys became friends with jisung through having mc as a mutual friend, the boys welcomed him into the friend group but ultimately, they like mc more.

jisung fell head over heels for mc, but just like in facelessly, mc and hyunjin already has something peculiar going on and therefore, when jisung finally musters up the courage to confess, mc rejected him. that was said and done, but unfortunately, awkwardness soon ensued. mc avoided jisung after the confession simply due to awkwardness, but the boys followed suit because they were closer to mc than they were to jisung.

jisung was bounced back to the beginning where he was an outcast, as it would be even harder for him to find friends when he gets ‘kicked out’ in the middle of a semester. this eventually lead to the big situation—jisung’s attempt at suicide.

but he didn’t do it. he tried, but he ended up not being the person who brings an end to his life. mc (reminder: this is the original mc, not time-loop mc) found out what he was doing when they decided, coincidentally, to head to his home to talk it over. out of panic, they tried to help stop jisung from doing what he wanted to do but they only ended up worsening the situation, thus leading to his actual death by an accident.

mc freaked out, went into a frenzy as they left the house and headed outside the street. unable to scan their surroundings, mc stumbled to the street, got hit by a car, and had amnesia. their family took them away from town for a while before heading back to town again for mc to resume school.

by then, mc had no memories of anybody they have met before, and under their parent’s wishes, people deicded to let them start fresh and re-meet mc again—hence, mc’s memories start with them being a transfer student during junior year and meeting the boys that year.

now that we have the past out of the way, let us go back to the current mc, which is the mc in facelessly. they find out about the scarf’s usage when they were thinking about the meeting with jisung during the halloween party, still clueless about what their ‘past’ self has done, and accidentally found out the actual usage of the scarf. mc tested the device by jumps back in time once and twice first before the idea hit them that they could just go back in time and save jisung from what happened.

**note:** as time traveling rules go, you cannot have two of you in one space. your future self becomes the past self, and there will be a new future self that exist.

mc picks up the courage to jump back, thinking it is going to be a short trip, and the first thing they see is a car crash, which was the car crash that the original mc got into. however, since the future self went back and existed in the **same space** (in close quaters) as the past mc, the past mc has to die, meaning instead of getting amnesia, the past mc simply died. and after the first time loop, past mc just continues to die in time when future mc jumps back in hopes to find jisung.

when the past mc dies in the car crash, their existence just vanishes. nobody knows who they are anymore. the future mc essentially becomes the past mc, and a new future mc will be created in the timeline where the same ghost experience will happen—time-loop, basically.

however! future mc cannot stay in this time because, as aforementioned, when the original mc got into a car crash, jisung is already dead, so all the future mcs has to jump even further back to when they are still friends with each other in order to save him.

and that’s all the inner workings you need to know. everything going on from there is easy.

mc relives the life of original mc after the realization that a new future mc was already born and the past was dead, and if they go back things will get complicated. they focused on saving jisung; they befriend jisung, befriend the boys, and the big event happens: jisung confesses.

unfortunately, the past mcs kept saying no and kept avoiding him until present (facelessly) mc had the idea to not avoid jisung. so the tables turned, but that didn’t mean anything was going to change. instead of mc avoiding jisung, jisung ended up being the one to avoid mc, which might have made it even worse on him because now the boys thought jisung was picking on mc, which ultimately made the awkwardness turn into something more menacing.

the same events happened until when mc found out that they would be the one to indirectly cause jisung’s death when they were trying to help him from suicide. it was something they would only be able to piece together after jisung’s death happened, and like many times before, mc freaked out, they go out to the street, and there the car comes. mc sees the car coming and they realized that this is the same crash they saw when they first jumped back!

it’s a time loop, they found out, so in the nick of time (before the car crushes into them), mc travels back to the future with the scarf they brought back from the future, they head back to their new future self’s room (after the halloween party, which would be the begining of the story if i wrote this in story form) to pull at the strings of jisung’s scarf so future mc can see it, so they can play around with it, so they can accidentally discover the portal.

**note:** facelessly mc stops here, from hereon it will be future mc (which is the new mc that is created when facelessly mc jumped back in time).

so future mc tugged at the string of jisung’s scarf to prompt a time travel. and future mc will jump back to the past, just in time for facelessly mc to get hit by a car and die, and the same cycle goes on. but this time, facelessly mc was smart enough to leave a little note for future mc to go by: jisung, say yes, time loop.

the same thing happens; i will spare the detail. mc is going to realize it one last time that this is a time loop, but something more was that whatever is going to happen, will continue to happen. no matter what they try to do, jisung will die one way or another. whether they said yes, whether they said no, even if nothing bad happens. essentially they realize that “you can alter the past but never change the future.”

jisung was meant to die, by their hands or not, he is going to die. the more you mess with it, the worse it might get.

so the final future mc, when they jumped back to the future, instead of pulling at the future mc’s scarf, they went back to meet jisung instead. they deicded to focus on understanding why jisung lied about the truth instead of trying to save him, which kind of brought back to facelessly. when jisung only asked mc to find out who killed him, not to save him instead.

so why did he frame his friends for his death?

(1) he’s a coward.

(2) mc won’t believe him. it’s halloween and he’s a ghost with minimal time, nobody will believe him.

(3) he’s in love with mc, that is the one final thing he has about mc that isn’t butchered. if he tells mc “hey, you killed me,” he becomes the boy who mc killed, he just becomes the boy who died by the hands of someone he loved. he would no longer be the boy who stared at them in class, the boy whose heart hammered so much under mc’s presence he felt like he could die, he won’t be the boy mc met during a halloween party who happened to died. jisung didn’t want that to be who he becomes at the end. he wants to be someone who has loved mc, and who just met a tragic end. basically, at the very least, i’m not gonna be the one to tell you what you did, because i still want you to think of me as a friend.


End file.
